


love stuck

by worry



Category: Ava's Demon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jealousy, M/M, background ava/maggie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-10-30 20:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10884429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worry/pseuds/worry
Summary: “Why did you tell me to kiss you?” Gil asks, voice cracking slightly.“My brother was telling me h-how much he wanted to… how much he w-wanted you.”“You were jealous,” Maggie says.“I wasn’t j-jealous,” Odin hisses. “I just did it to pr-protect Gil. Olai isn’t a good m-man. He’ll hurt you, Gil. I-I don’t want that to happen.”“Since when do you want to protect me?” Gil asks, another voice crack repeat.“I d-don’t know.” He turns to Ava and Maggie. “You guys c-can’t tell anyone that it’s f-fake, okay?”[Odin and Gil pretend to date and the lines start to blur.]





	love stuck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [projectfreelancer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/projectfreelancer/gifts).



Odin expected a singular reaction to his (admittedly impulsive, admittedly _terrible_ ) plan of taking manual control of the transport, rerouting its course and taking them to his home planet. He expected shock, surprise, anger--especially since he put the plan into action as Gil and Maggie argued bitterly. He expected yelling, he expected vile words, he expected someone to grab him and shake him and---

 

(why would it be any different with these people? They aren’t his family. Everyone in the universe, he knows, is like his family. Everyone is corrupt. Gil, Ava, and Maggie are no different.)

 

he did not expect _this:_ a sigh of relief from Gil, escaping his tired-pale mouth, breath settling on his lips and slowly jumping off of the bridge of Gil, as if he’s a building, as if he is - _home._ He did not expect relief, especially not from Gil. It elicits a sigh from Maggie as well. They don’t want to be near each other, Odin knows. They want to be very, very far away. The ability to escape is a luxury that Odin will never understand.

 

“Where _are_ we?” Maggie asks, and waves a hand in front of Odin’s face. “Hey. _Hey._ Where are we?”

 

“On a pl-planet,” he replies, snide. “We are wh-where we’re _supposed_ to be.”

 

“Are you ever _not_ vague and creepy?”

 

“Sometimes I-I’m mean, too.”

 

Gil chuckles. Odin shouldn’t find the sound of his laughter inviting, shouldn’t think of it as wholesome--but everyone knows that Odin is a failure. Everyone knows that Odin is only capable of failing.

 

He presses the door open and fresh air fills the ship; Gil breathes it in sharply, sighs again, home. “Odin, where are we?”

 

“We’re on…” (his eyes flutter shut, tries to think of anywhere else they could be, hypothetically, anywhere else in the universe that isn’t Here) “my h-home planet.”

 

“This is where he said he was taking me when he _kidnapped_ us!” Maggie says, but Gil only rolls his eyes.

 

“It’s beautiful,” Gil says, and it is. It really is: his planet is _green,_ the green goes on and on until your eyes unfocus to teal instead of black. The air is crisp, refreshing, the air on his planet make you feel like you have been reborn with every breath you inhale. It’s _beautiful._ But the core of it is rotten.

 

“I know.”

 

“You really live here?” Gil asks.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I’m almost jealous.”

 

 _If you only knew,_ Odin thinks, and stops himself; no one should know.

 

He jumps off of the ship and motions for them to follow.

 

* * *

 

“Where did you land us?” Maggie asks. “We’re in the middle of nowhere…”

 

The path in front of them is certainly intimidating; the trees seem endless, growing black and muddled the farther out their eyes look, the more their eyes squint. The truth is that Odin doesn’t know where they landed. It was supposed to be in front of their home, it was supposed to be near his family, but now the only thing in front of them is a thick forest and no “home” in sight. The coordinates, he thinks, must have been off slightly, which will make Olai angry when he finds out, if they ever get to Olai, if they ever make it out of here.

 

“Does it matter?” Gil asks. “At least now we aren’t stuck in that ship.” He gestures to Odin, looks him right in the eyes. “Which way do we go? Surely you must know a way out of here.”

 

“Uh,” Odin says, and points in an arbitrary direction, “that way.”

 

Which, of course, means that Maggie must walk in the opposite direction. Of course.

 

“Maggie?” Gil asks. “Where are you going?”

 

“I’m leaving.”

 

Odin stifles a laugh. “You w-won’t be able to find a way out of here without us.” He thinks about it, _us._ Gil and Odin as an “us”, Gil and Odin as one. Gil and Odin leading the way to Odin’s home, Gil in Odin’s home, Gil’s mouth as the foundation of Odin’s house.

 

“I can try.”

 

She walks away, walks and walks, until Gil sighs again--he does a lot of sighing, oh-- and stops her. “Stop,” he says, and then, through teeth, “Maggie, I’m not mad at you.”

 

She turns. “You’re not?”

 

He is. Odin can tell. But Maggie needs to be _safe._ She is a being, and Gil, as a doctor, is supposed to protect beings, he is supposed to help them.

 

It’s almost admirable.

 

“No, I’m not. Now, come back and we’ll figure this all out _together.”_

 

(Together.)

 

Maggie sighs and approaches them again. “Okay, fine. Let’s go.”

 

“ _Th-thank you,_ ” Odin says, because if Maggie gets away then things will get worse, _worse._ “Now, I’m going t-to get Ava and we’re getting out of here.”

 

“You’re taking Ava _with us?”_ Gil asks, and Maggie rolls her eyes in addition. They are both probably thinking that he is insane, they’re both probably finding a new common ground of thinking Odin is Bad, and Odin can’t object to it.

 

“You w-want me to leave her out here?”

 

“Well…”

 

“Gil, there are wild animals out h-here. She won’t be a-able to hurt us if she’s asleep.”

 

Gil bites his lip; it should not be an intriguing sight. “And when she wakes up?”

 

“We’ll f-figure that out l-later.”

 

Gil makes a face that Odin is very familiar with: it says _I have nothing left to lose._

 

“We should just leave her here, you know,” Maggie whispers as Odin climbs back into the ship for Ava. “Who cares about animals? They’ll be right at home with her.”

 

But she doesn’t mean it. Odin knows by the break in her voice that there is a deep, underlying history.

 

* * *

 

They set out into the forest, Ava splayed across Odin’s shoulder. Gil walks close to him---so close that their wrists could touch if Odin just leaned in a little bit, just took a chance---and Maggie walks in front of both of them, farther down the path.

 

It has been about an hour, walking in silence. Complete silence. Odin thinks he should say something, like _I’m sorry that Maggie lied to you, no one deserves to be lied to, you’re insane but I’m not stable either._

 

He will get over it with time.

 

(When Olai and Maggie and Ava and Magpie---

 

The only thing he’ll have left is Gil.)

 

“Hey,” Gil says, words like electric shock. “Can we… um… take a break?”

 

“Yeah,” Maggie yells from in front of them. “I’m a little tired, too.”

 

If things were up to Odin, if he made every decision, if he could be trusted with that power, he would tell them to stop, keep moving, it’s getting dark.

 

But they’re not, and he cannot be trusted with any power. Olai has drilled this right into him.

 

So he says: “Okay, f-fine,” and lies Ava down on the ground, completely gentle.

 

“Thank you,” Gil says, sitting down right in the dirt, folding his legs on top of each other, “I was getting slightly out of breath.”

 

“Slightly?” Odin asks. “Right. You sh-should’ve said something earlier.”

 

“I didn’t say anything because I want to get out of here,” Gil replies. “I feel like my body is on fire. I’m exhausted.”

 

Maggie pokes in and plops down on a tree root, right next to Gil. Odin shouldn’t feel - so bitter, so angry, at the sight of Maggie and Gil next to each other, even if Gil is slowly inching away from her, even if Gil looks visibly uncomfortable. There is froth inside of Odin that cannot be contained, higher than his stoicism.

 

Odin, moving on disgusting instinct, sits down next to Gil on his other side. Now the three of them are in a row, like waiting to be picked in an endless game. Every move you make changes something, every move you make changes someone’s life. This is why you need logic instead of instinct.

 

His first instinct upon meeting Gil was: hate.

 

His instinct now is: not hate, which is scary, which makes Gil the proverbial monster under the bed, or his feelings are the monster, or the thought of Odin having feelings is the monster.

 

And then Gil is moving closer to him, into him, which is absolutely unacceptable.

 

“Okay, you t-two need to work things out _now,_ ” Odin says. “We’re not g-going anywhere until you’re on good t-terms.”

 

“Odin, in case you haven’t noticed,” Gil says, voice cracking, “everything that Maggie said to me was a lie. All this time I thought you were a terrible person… but you’re good. All this time I thought I could trust her… finally trust someone other than -- um, someone else, but I was wrong. You can’t fix this.”

 

Odin thinks for a moment: _good._ To Gil he is good.

 

“Yeah, well, l-look around. We’re all you’ve got n-now. If either of you tried to leave you’d p-probably end up dead somewhere. So you h- _have_ to work it out.”

 

Gil sighs once again, turns to Maggie. “He’s right.”

 

“Yeah,” she replies. “Look, Gil, the reason I lied is… I like you.”

 

Odin’s sick heart begins to race.

 

“I liked you too,” Gil replies. “You were nice, so eager to be a follower… you seemed like a good friend, someone I could rely on.”

 

Maggie laughs, defeated. “No, Gil. I _liked_ you.”

 

“Wh—”

 

Odin imagines it: his face turning gears, realizing the truth. Why does Odin feel this way about a man he is supposed to hate? A man that represents everything dangerous in the universe?

 

“Oh,” Gil says. “Oh. _Maggie…_ ”

 

“I know,” she responds. “I know, it’s stupid… just… did you like me, too? Like that, I mean, before you found out I was lying.”

 

Odin’s fingernails dig into his palm.

 

“Maggie,” Gil says softly, “um, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry… I don’t… like girls. I’m gay.”

 

And then Odin’s body decays even further; he exhales in relief.

 

“Oh,” she says, and Odin expects a blow-up, expects rage. Instead: Maggie simply says, “Okay.”

 

“I understand,” Gil says. “I don’t forgive you, but I understand. And I think maybe, with time, I’ll get over this.”

 

“Good, that’s all I want.”

 

“You guys g-good now?” Odin asks, turning back to them. “Please j-just say you’re good.”

 

“I suppose,” Gil replies, and then he’s looking right at Odin, right into him. “We are.”

 

“That’s—”

 

This is when Odin realizes they’re absolutely screwed; there’s no light left in the sky, no light left around them. They won’t be able to continue the path safely until morning.

 

Oh. Oh _no._

 

“Odin?” they ask, unison, as if they’re already similar-minded again, as if they’re One again.

 

“It’s too d-dark out now to keep walking.”

 

Odin can vaguely make out Gil’s head scanning the area around them, watching the dark move over the four of them, each individual covered in black.

 

“What do we do now?”

 

“We st-stay here until morning.”

 

Gil leans in closer to him, so close that Odin can feel his hot breath and thinks _what if he’s about to--_

 

“Odin, you said there were wild animals.”

 

“There are.”

 

“You expect us to _sleep_ out here? Where we could get eaten at any minute?”

 

“Maggie’s weird t-tree arms will protect us.”

 

He hears a laugh, stifled quickly---most likely Maggie.

 

“We’ll be f-fine,” Odin says. “I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you--” he stops himself, _there is no Odin and Gil, how repulsive,_ “to us. I won’t l-let anything happen t-to us.”

 

“I trust you,” Gil says back, and - _oh God._ “Everything in me is telling me I shouldn’t, but right now I trust you.”

 

“Good,” Odin says to him. “Because ri-right now, I’m all you’ve got.”

 

* * *

 

  


Odin would wake up Maggie, tell her that her head is on Ava’s chest and she doesn’t want to be there, but in complete honesty it’s somewhat of a comforting sight: Maggie, who despises Ava, sleeping curled into her.

 

Gil, on the other hand, has been tossing and turning for the past three billion years. He almost wants to _help_ Gil -- almost. Gil is Gil and Gil is a follower and Odin doesn’t _help_ followers. Gil is Gil and Gil is a follower and Odin has never been more intrigued in his life.

 

So he simply whispers: “Gil, wh-what are you _doing?_ Go to sl-sleep.”

 

“I - I’m trying,” Gil whispers in response. “I can’t seem to calm down enough to get to sleep.”

 

(Odin himself isn’t trying to sleep. They need to get to Olai as fast as possible.)

 

Odin swallows down his pride like swallowing knives, sword-swallowing, and crawls next to Gil. Their hands brush, momentarily, and Odin feels the knives in his stomach poke poke poke out, cut holes in him, ruin him;; _is he really about to do this?_

 

“Tell m-me what’s on your mind.”

 

(Yes. He is.)

 

“You can’t be serious.”

 

“I am c-completely serious.”

 

Gil sits up. “Odin…I was going to be a doctor. I was going to help people. The Followers saved my life, you know.”

 

“What do you mean th-they ‘saved your life’?”

 

“I died,” Gil says suddenly, like he’s longing for the day again. “I died… when I was four. Boiled alive in the ocean. The Followers found me and brought me back to life. _That’s_ why I worship TITAN, Odin. I know you think I’m crazy, but without them I’d have nothing.”

 

“Without th-them,” Odin says, chooses his words carefully like pricking fingers, “you’d still be you. You’d h-have yourself. Why is that so sc-scary to you?”

 

He stops; Odin hopes that the silence between them means that Gil is considering his words, that maybe Gil is reachable, sane, not a complete lost cause buried so deep in lies that his mind can’t fathom the unconventional, as that was Odin’s first impression. Maybe Gil is - like him.

 

“It’s not scary! It’s not, I assure you. I just… I guess I just don’t know who ‘I’ am yet.”

 

“You  w-wanna know what I th-think of you?”

 

“It depends on whether or not it’s a positive view.”

 

Odin laughs at this, and then bites his cheek until there’s pain; _he does not laugh because of men like Gil, even when men like Gil are sitting with him in deep forests spilling out their backstories like spitting out teeth from a curbstomp, trusting him completely._ “I th-think you’re just lost. You have a lot of potential, and y-you seem like a good person… despite how strongly you ally yourself with T-TITAN.”

 

“I’m sorry? What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“Think about it, Gil. If TITAN i-is this mightly, all-knowing being, wh-why would he let Ava kill all of those people? Wouldn’t h-he have stopped her? Do you kn-know what they had in the ‘refugee center’ you threw us into?”

 

“There’s… no way he could’ve known that would happen,” Gil says, but his voice is shaken. “And what, exactly, was in the refugee center?”

 

“Euthanasia medicine.”

 

“Why would he need that?”

 

“I th-think you know the answer.”

 

“You aren’t seriously suggesting that TITAN and the Followers are killing people.”

 

“Interesting h-how your mind immediately jumped t-to murder.”

 

Gil is silent.

 

“Listen, Gil,” Odin says. “Just go to sl-sleep. I’ll be right here… pr-protecting you, I guess.”

 

“Protecting me?” Gil asks, his voice chock-full of realization, soft.

 

“Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

Deep midnight, approximately 0500:

  
  
There’s a low rustle, a shift in the dirt, a haunting screech, ghostlike, entitylike, deathlike;  Odin shoots upright. He scans the area: nothing. Nothing except for darkness, nothing except for---

  
Nothing.

 

"Hey, Maggie," he calls. "Wake up... th-there's something out here."

 

She moans.

 

"Maggie," Odin says, louder, firm.

 

Still no response; typical. What did he expect? Did he expect Maggie to help him? Maggie, who tried to kill him? He expects many things but he knows what troubled people look like, he can spot them birdseye, looking down from above. It has something to do with Odin's soul, or lack thereof, but -

 

Maggie will not help him. He is on his own yet again.

 

So: he pushes himself Off of the ground, Up into the air, ascends. He even makes sure that he doesn’t wake Gil, because that is apparently something that he does now, something that has crawled into him. If Gil wakes up, he will be scared, and _he might touch--_

 

So: he walks, slowly, around their site. The ground does not stop rustling. Odin draws his fists in and clenches them, thinks only about protecting. He almost made a promise. He needs Maggie and Ava for his _mission,_ so he must keep them from harm, but: Gil isn’t a part of his mission. He never planned on Gil, he was unpredictable, an unpinnable force in the world. He never planned on finding Gil as well, never planned on having him as a burden - a _burden -_ surely - and Odin was raised to be prepared for _anything._

 

He was never prepared for Gil.

 

And he hears his name - _Odin?_ \- and every thought of Gil vanishes, sends him back into alert mode.

 

“Hello? Who’s th-there--”

 

He turns.

 

Ava.

 

She’s shaking, her face redder than normal and damp. She looks exactly like someone who has just killed hundreds of people, drowning in remorse and guilt.

 

There are many things that Odin shouldn’t do, such as crash ships and ignore his brother’s calls and find Gil intriguing - he imagines that feeling bad for one of his assignments is something he shouldn’t do as well, another tick mark on the list.

 

This, he realizes, could be an act. Ava did _kill_ people, decimated TITAN’s headquarters, willed fire out of thin air. Gil and Maggie are right: she is dangerous and unpredictable.

 

It goes back to the fact that he _knows what troubled people look like;_ there’s something in her eyes, in her demeanor, that says _what the hell did I do?_

 

“Ava,” he breathes. “You’re a-awake. How are you feeling?”

 

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

 

“I’m not s-sure,” he admits. “I’m here t-to help you. I-I know what you did. We’re on m-my planet now, my family will help you get better.”

 

“ _Get better?_ ” she asks, or shouts, or hisses, and her fists are clenched, her teeth are showing. Then she unwinds, and every sign of anger is gone; defeat, depression, Odin can see it in everyone. “Why do you think I can get _better?_ I killed people… innocent people.”

 

“I kn-know.”

 

“Aren’t you scared of me?”

 

“Oh, y-yeah, I’m terrified. But I still think we c-can help you. Just give us a chance.”

 

“I’m not--”

 

“Look around, Ava. Do y-you have any other choice?”

 

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask… why are we in a forest? And why did I wake up with Maggie hugging me?”

 

Odin snorts. “The ship we w-were on.. um… malfunctioned. It was su-supposed to land us right next to my h-house, but instead it put us in the middle of nowhere. And I honestly d-don’t know about Maggie.”

 

“We were on a ship?”

 

“Yeah… I’ll explain everything later---”

 

“Odin!”

 

Then there’s a cold hand grasping his arm, tight, pulling him away from Ava. A panicked hiss - a genuine concern - _are you alright? Odin? Did she hurt you?_

 

He turns; _Gil had touched him, you’d think his hands would be warm but they’re cold, you’d think he would know better than to touch Odin but he doesn’t. He doesn’t._

 

“I’m - I’m _f-fine,_ Gil,” he says, and looks down at the skin on his arm. “Ava d-didn’t hurt me. I don’t think she’ll h-hurt any of us.”

 

“I won’t!” Ava chimes.

 

“Is that what she told you? Odin, you don’t seriously believe her--”

 

“We c-can help her.”

 

“Help her? She’s a murderer. She obliterated TITAN HQ. She’s dangerous---”

 

Odin’s body moves without his instruction; it takes Gil by the shoulders, but softly. Oh, softly. Just too soft. “Have s-some _empathy,_ Gil,” he says. “She’s j-just a troubled kid. I don’t th-think it was entirely her doing, either.”

 

Gil looks down at Odin’s hands on his body, _Odin_ is the one touching him now, Odin is the one letting himself look fallable. Odin with his hands. Odin with his uncertainty and intrigue. He’s going to ruin everything. He’ll ruin everything but his life is over regardless, because he thinks about a TITAN follower and isn’t nauseous so his life is over, because he looks at Gil and sees someone insane but also _wants_ so his life is over and he’s going to pass away right here in this forest.

 

Then his eyes move upwards and meet Odin’s eyes and there’s another universe spark, there’s another galaxy growing. “What do you mean? Do you think someone made her do it?”

 

“Gil,” Ava says, and Odin removes his hands. “They put me in the Gate to Paradise.”

 

“I know.”

 

“No, you don’t - I got stuck in there, with someone else. I watched the machine strip her down until she was nothing but nerves and a brain.”

 

“The - the - the Followers wouldn’t do that,” Gil says. “There must be some kind of explanation.”

 

Odin stares at her for a moment and all intrigue bleeds away; _this_ is what TITAN does, _this_ is what the Followers do and Gil is no different.

 

“I fought my way out of the machine… when I got out, Strategos Six tried to kill me.”

 

“They wouldn’t…”

 

“Yes, they w-would, Gil,” Odin interrupts. “I think, deep down, you kn-know she’s telling the truth.”

 

Gil’s face falls - along with the rest of his body, right into the ground. On his knees. He’s on his knees. He’s on his knees but not in the saving way; his hands are bolted to his mouth, and he trembles as Ava trembles.

 

“It… it can’t… you’re _lying…_ ”

 

“Some part of you,” Odin whispers, “must h-have known all along, that TITAN isn’t wh-what he seems. Otherwise y-you wouldn’t be acting like this at s-such insubstantial information.”

 

Gil is filled with silence, which is new. Odin can almost _feel_ looking at him like this - disheveled, shaking, realization frightened. The truth: Odin always feels, feels too much. The truth: he learns to ignore those feelings to get his missions _done._ Emotions are useless when they only inhibit you.

 

But this is - well. What he feels now, in this moment, with Gil crying on his knees, is primal.

 

“Hey,” he sighs. “Gil, c-come on. Get up.”

 

“He looks like he’s in shock,” Ava offers. “What are we gonna do _now?_ ”

 

Odin extends a hand to help Gil stand, but Gil only grabs it weakly, does not make any attempt to move.

 

“You can’t b-be like this forever, Gil. You have to k-keep _going._ ”

 

“I can’t---”

 

Odin kneels and grabs him again, imagines himself shaking purity right into Gil’s veins. (Ava gasps but she doesn’t _know,_ she doesn’t know, she doesn’t know the intrigue, the duty.)

 

“Gil, c-come on,” he says, but it’s gentle. “I kn-know you must be really upset ri-right now. I understand. But y-you _have_ to keep going. I promise it’ll get better.”

 

And he begins to writhe, underneath Odin’s touch, convulse like he’s trying to rid TITAN’s essence and every memory of him out of his own body like a possessing spirit. Odin can - help. Odin is very good at shedding things from his mind, Odin is very good at adapting. It’s like water, how he moves against the universe, or, more apt, smoke in the air threatening the universe.

 

He takes Gil’s face, holds him like something that would resemble intimacy if they weren’t in a forest and TITAN didn’t exist and Odin didn’t have his missions.

 

It seems to work and Gil is struck back into normal consciousness, and then they’re just Gil and Odin, close to each other, Odin letting himself look weak by holding Gil in such a way that could _suggest_ things. Very _bad_ things. Odin’s pride running reverse because of Gil, because of _Gil._

 

“Odin?” Gil whispers.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Why are you holding my face?”

 

Odin laughs _sorry_ and stands back up; this time Gil allows his help, takes his hand and pulls himself off of the hard ground. How interesting.

 

“Gil,” Ava breathes, moves closer but stops, “I’m so sorry. I know TITAN was important to you, but - he’s corrupt. I’m just sorry you had to find out… like _this._ ”

 

“It’s okay,” he replies. “It was inevitable.”

 

* * *

 

By the time they explain everything to Maggie it’s already afternoon, and by the time Maggie’s voice stops being a yell it’s evening; she takes a while to warm up to the new developments of Gil Abandoning TITAN and Ava Being Semi-Okay And Not Wanting To Kill Her, but when she does she is the first person to continue their path to Odin’s home.

 

(She walks with Ava only slightly behind her. Odin thinks: maybe this is where we’re all supposed to be. It definitely is; he _needs_ Maggie and Ava for his mission, right, his _mission,_ but he also sees More, like the fact that despite everything Ava still loves Maggie, because it’s carved into her outer being and actions. _She loves Maggie._ It would be beautiful if Maggie hadn’t tried to kill them. Ava’s feelings are certainly intriguing, the youngness and innocence of her love. If only Odin was capable of that.)

 

Gil just walks next to him in silence. It’s all so silent - they reach Odin’s home, finally, in silence, they make the trip in silence. Odin turns the front door handle so hard that it nearly breaks in his hands.

 

He expects Crow or Raven.

 

He does not expect Olai.

 

He needs to stop expecting.

 

Olai smiles like a fast animal waiting for its next meal. “Hello brother,” he says, and looks away from Odin instantaneously, shifts to Maggie. “You must be Maggie. It’s nice to meet you.” Then his eyes shift up to _Gil,_ for too long, and the excitement in his eyes starts like a spark - he looks down to Ava, Odin was just imagining things, his brother doesn’t _want_ things like that, does he? Does he? “I don’t believe I know the two of you.”

 

“Olai, th-this is Ava. She’s like Maggie.”

 

“And the other one?”

 

“Gil.”

 

“Hello, Gil… and Ava. Come in! Make yourselves comfortable. Odin, can I talk to you for a minute?”

 

“Do I-I have a choice?”

 

“No.”

 

“Fine,” he exhales, pulls Olai over to a corner. He watches them all walk through his house, his territory; Gil, especially, looks _wary._ “What’s up?”

 

“What are the other girl and the admittedly cute blue boy doing here?” _(admittedly cute, he needs to stay away, Odin was right, he is dangerous)_ “I sent you out to find Maggie Lacivi.”

 

“I t-told you, Ava is like Maggie,” he responds. “They m-must have the same kind of power… I watched Ava d-decimate TITAN’s headquarters---”

 

“TITAN’s headquarters?”

 

“It’s a l-long story. She created fire out of th-thin air...completely destroyed the planet… I thought you’d b-be happy that I brought two of them back.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, okay. You did a surprisingly good job on this mission, congrats. What’s the the story with Gil?”

 

“Why are you so f-fascinated by him anyway?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I saw y-you looking at him. What’s going on? He doesn’t h-have any powers, he’s useless to you. Leave him al-alone.”

 

“Oh, so protective.” Olai clicks his tongue. “Why are _you_ so fascinated with him?”

 

“I’m _not--_ ”

 

“Hey, if you don’t want him, he’s mine.”

 

“You can’t just t-talk about people like they’re objects, Olai. Gil is a person. You c-can’t just claim him.”

 

“So he _is_ yours, then?”

 

…

 

“Actually, y-yeah, he is.”

 

It slips out like sand slipping out of hands; Gil isn’t Odin’s, he will never be Odin’s. Odin doesn’t _want_ him, either, but he has to protect Gil from his brother, because his brother is greedy and selfish and he will corrupt Gil, he will hurt him, crawl inside of Gil and hollow him out. Odin saving, again. Odin being useful, for the first time.

 

“Prove it.”

 

“I will.”

 

Odin walks over to Gil--who is leaning up against the back wall of their living room, visibly uncomfortable, _saving again--_ and takes his hand.

 

“Kiss me,” he whispers.

 

“ _What?_ ” Gil asks, but his face is dark, dark blue. “Odin, are you feeling okay?”

 

“Just d-do it, okay, I’ll explain later, and _h-hurry._ ”

 

He expects, again, expects Gil to pull way or scream or recoil in disgust _but instead Gil pulls him in by the waist_ and then they’re kissing and Odin forgets how to expect, Odin forgets his humanity and becomes the personification of desperation with Gil against him. It doesn’t last long enough; Gil pulls away and Odin bites his lip and _longs for it again._

 

Oh no.

 

“Well, well… okay,” Olai says. “Odin, you’re a very lucky man.”

 

“I know.”

 

Olai snickers and walks into the hallway, and Odin breathes out, exhales relief. It’s over. It’s over and he will never have to kiss Gil again, because he doesn’t want to, because that was a terrifying experience, because he’ll bury his own feelings in the forest dirt so he never feels them again if that’s what it takes to make this go _away._

 

“Um,” says Maggie, who is sitting on the floor. “Odin, I didn’t know you and Gil were…” and then she’s laughing, laughing, but it’s crestfallen. “Of course. Just - of course.”

 

“What happened while I was asleep?” Ava laughs; she’s sitting near Maggie, which is interesting, which makes Odin’s heart drop. What Ava has for Maggie is love, what Odin has for Gil isn’t. It’s simple.

 

“Okay, sh-shut up,” Odin whispers. “We’re _n-not_ dating.”

 

“Why did you tell me to kiss you?” Gil asks, voice cracking slightly.

 

“My brother was telling me h-how much he wanted to… how much he w-wanted you.”

 

“You were jealous,” Maggie says.

 

“I wasn’t jealous,” Odin hisses. “I just did it to protect Gil. Olai isn’t a good m-man. He’ll hurt you, Gil. I-I don’t want that to happen.”

 

“Since when do you want to protect me?” Gil asks, another voice crack repeat.

 

“I d-don’t know.” He turns to Ava and Maggie. “You guys c-can’t tell anyone that it’s f-fake, okay?”

 

They both nod, which is surprising. He expected--

 

He needs to stop expecting.

 

“Hopefully w-we won’t have to do that again,” he says to Gil.

 

“Yes,” Gil sighs, looks down at the floorboards. “Hopefully.”

 

* * *

 

Ava and Maggie are put in Crow’s room (which forces Crow to share a room with her sister, making her an absolute _joy_ to be around) and Gil is placed in Odin’s room, with Odin, on Odin’s couch, on Odin’s surfaces, underneath Odin’s blankets.

 

He can almost feel Gil against him once again, which is a poisonous thought, which means that he’s going to die. Gil will kill him and Olai will dispose of him-- _sick, sick boy--_ and then it’ll be over, amen.

 

“Hey, Odin?” Gil whispers, and when Odin looks over at him he’s covered in moonlight, the light belonging to one of the moons surrounding his planet. It’s beautifu---

 

“What?”

 

“Do you have feelings for---”

 

“Goodnight, Gil.”

 

Odin does not sleep.

 

* * *

 

It’s only when Gil wakes up and asks about Ava and Maggie that Odin feels regret. He wants to rebel, sometimes. He wants to say: _no._ No, I won’t do this.

 

But Odin has a duty, see. He has weight on his shoulders, carries the whole of the world on his back like Atlas.

 

Right now Olai is probably taking blood samples from both of them under the guise of “protection”, in the same way that Odin kissed Gil under the guise of “protection”. The truth is that Odin’s protection is true, pure, because for some reason Gil is making him pure, injecting him with usefulness. The truth is that Olai isn’t pure. The truth is the truth and Odin has never been good at truth, but now he has Gil.

 

Olai tells him to make Gil clean the house, a distraction from questions like _where are Ava and Maggie?_ _Odin, do you have feelings for me? Odin, do you even understand emotion?_ Gil, however, being Gil, happens to enjoy cleaning because of course, because neatness is also etched into Gil’s soul. There are many things etched into Gil’s soul - cleanliness, purity, _hopefully not Odin Arrow._ He hopes that he hasn’t been etched into any bodies, any left-behind imprints shaded in. He hopes. He just hopes. He hoped he would never feel intrigue for anyone, but he has always been a failure. Intrigue is just too dangerous. Gil’s soul and all the etched-on parts of him are _dangerous._

 

The problem is that Gil likes to hum as he cleans. The problem is Gil. The problem is Gil standing next to him, scrubbing dishes with _que sera, sera_ on his lips. The problem is:

 

“Odin, you’ve been cleaning that window for half an hour.”

 

“No, I haven’t.”

 

“Yes, you have,” Gil tells him. “Maybe we can switch jobs; you can do the dishes for a while and I’ll do the windows. How does that sound?”

 

“I’m p-perfectly happy with my window, th-thank you.”

 

“Come on. Do you think I haven’t noticed that you don’t want to do this? Does your brother make you clean often?”

 

“Something l-like that.”

 

“Well, you better be glad I’m here to help you.”

 

Odin smiles and then bites it away. “I _g-guess_ I am.”

 

“Good,” Gil says, and then he sets down the plate he’s been cleaning. “Hey, Odin?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I just want to say - thank you. For being so nice to me.”

 

Odin wants to say: _don’t thank me._ Odin wants to say: _I’m doing this because I’m ill and I’m a lost cause anyway, my last bit of armor, my last chance at redemption, is formality and protection. It’s not about you. It’s not about you._ He knows that the story revolves around Gil only, bright theatrical production of Gil and Odin and how they’ll only have each other in the end so they need to get along, so Odin can bite down, brace pain, on his pride and chew it up like meat. He knows that his mind lies.

 

“No pr-problem.”

 

“And, um, you never answered my que---”

 

“Coming through,” blares into the room; Olai’s nasal voice; _finally his presence is welcomed,_ “get out of the way!”

 

He’s - he’s walking towards Gil with a pot full of water, charging fast like approaching prey, and then - like the Gods are working against Odin, like they despise him - Gil does not move out of the way. The water soaks him. The water soaks and Olai _laughs._

 

“Oh _no,_ ” he snickers. “I was going to use that to make pasta for the girls. Whatever will I do now?”

 

“Maybe get some more water?” Gil offers.

 

“Excellent idea,” Olai says. “I’m sorry, Gil.” And he - _rubs his hand on Gil’s chest,_ right up and down his shirt. He’s doing this on purpose, _wants Gil on purpose._ It won’t do. It just won’t do.

 

Odin forcibly removes his brother’s hand; this is the closest thing to rebellion that he will ever be able to find. “That’s e-enough,” he says, and - peels Gil’s shirt off of his body like mind-treason, like the entirety of Odin Arrow has just made a terrible, terrible mistake.

 

“Come on, Gil,” he says, staring right into Olai’s eyes. “Let’s g-go find you some cl-clean clothes.”

 

* * *

 

The sight of Gil, soaking wet, removing his clothing slowly and _moaning,_ isn’t entirely unpleasant. Odin thinks about it: Gil, half-naked in his bedroom, where they are alone, where no one will ever be able to see them, where the world can stop momentarily and leave them drifting. Closer, apart, closer. Bright lights, action, begin again.

 

Odin throws him a shirt from the (messy, disgusting) inside of his closet and averts his eyes; the mission is useless if Odin can’t stay focused, keep himself in well mind and focus on _keeping Gil distracted._ What, exactly, is the mission? The mission: discard every emotion and help his family. The mission: rise from his own ash, the ash of the old Odin, and do what needs to be done. What, exactly, needs to be done? Odin doesn’t ask questions about what Olai does in his lab. Odin is not allowed in Olai’s lab. Odin does not question Olai, because doing so would be an act of rebellion and, as we all know, that would make things just too complicated. He has a role to fulfill for his parents. He will do what he is told.

 

(Olai could be doing anything to them right now, anything at all. This is exactly why attachments are forbidden. This is the mission, this is why you do it, this is what you do to complete it and absolutely nothing else.)

 

His name comes from Gil’s mouth suddenly, and now all that Odin can think about is names and mouths and the way names come out of mouths - breathless, eraptured, desperation clinging in throats, leaking out of teeth.

 

Here is the mission:

 

“Can you help me? Your clothes are a little - ah - tight. I can’t get these pants on.”

 

“Gil, I am n-not helping you p-put pants on.”

 

“If you’d rather have me walk around naked…”

 

“ _Fine,”_ Odin sighs, moves closer to him; his hands brush against the outside of Gil’s thighs and _his skin is soft, he imagined it as rough and sandy but it’s soft and he -_

 

_has to hold himself back. Temptation kills. There is no temptation here; he is not capable of wanting, only needing._

 

By a godly miracle the clothing ends up wrapping around him perfectly, albeit invitingly tight.

 

“Thanks,” breathes Gil, and then Gil says, sounding exactly like what Odin imagines what noises an angel would make as it falls, “I wonder how Maggie and Ava are doing. We should go talk to them, don’t you think?”

 

“I d-don’t think that’s a good idea.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because…” ( _do whatever it takes to keep the mission from being compromised, whatever it takes, whatever it takes)_ “I think we sh-should stay right here.”

 

“You don’t want to check up on them?”

 

Odin laughs. “No.”

 

“Why not---”

 

He takes a handful of Gil’s shirt--- _his shirt---_ and pulls him in; if he couldn’t feel Gil’s warm breath he would view this as fantasy, hallucination, intrusive thought. This is what he has to do. Here is the mission:

 

He kisses Gil. That early desperation in his throat is spilling out, now, and Gil just returns it, kisses Odin but _harder,_ like he can tell that Odin is only doing this for a distraction, like he knows that everything will be okay if Odin tells himself that he is only doing this for a distraction. He is making the most of the situation, certainly.

 

Gil pulls back and Odin expects ( _expects)_ another _do you have feelings for me_ question, a fast conversation, even possibly a rejection. Instead, however, Gil just says: “You couldn’t have done that before I put these pants on?”

 

Odin smiles and smiles and unbuttons the jeans. There’s a loud, ripping noise, but it doesn’t matter; they’re old, and all that Odin is capable of right now is hunger, a longing. He _needs_ Gil. There is a difference between desire and necessity.

 

And Gil has him pinned down into his bed with that same necessity, that same starvation.

 

 _Does this mean,_ he whispers into Odin’s skin, between kisses, between hands, _that you do have feelings for me?_

 

Odin does not respond. He doesn’t need to.

 

 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> HERE IT IS HERE IT IS i'm gonna write the second part of this next week! this is for the wonderful lux I HOPE YOU LIKE IT I LOVE YOU okay yeah


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